Chapter 7: Raised Stakes

November 14

Laina didn't know how long it took her to finally reach City Hall, but Jasper's cross face told her it must have been a while. She spotted him talking to some other Rocket executive when he saw her, and his look immediately reddened. He strode toward Laina, arms swinging stiffly. He struck her hard on the side of her face, knocking her to the ground as she yelped in pain.

"Where the hell were you?" he shouted, lifting her from the ground, "I've been waiting for an hour for you to show up!" His face turned a dark shade of red, twisted every which way as he struggled to contain his anger.

Laina gawked. Sure, Jasper had anger issues, and he might occasionally take it out on one of the lower ranking grunts, but never before had he laid a finger on a high-ranking executive like her.

"I-I-I-I'm sorry!" she whimpered, "I was lost and hurt and…and…"

"No excuses, Laina!" Jasper barked, "I'm supposed to count on you! How can I do that if you can't even find your way?" He noticed the cuts and bruises on her body. "How'd you get those?" he asked in a repressed calm, "and where's your satchel?"

Laina glanced at her wounds. "Oh, you know…survived a truck crash that my men didn't, got knocked down by the kid that I captured, I was hit by my boss…same old, same old." she said sarcastically, partially relieved that she didn't have to fear Jasper, at least for now.

"Very funny. And your bag?"

"I left it in the truck when it crashed," said Laina. "All I took was my knife."

"Did you really?" asked Jasper with a hint of sarcasm, "I don't see it on you."

Laina breathed deeply. "I ran into that kid I captured, and-"

"Ash?" Jasper interrupted.

Laina frowned. How did he know his name? "He and his little girl friend knocked me down. I tried to kill him, but she took the knife to her arm instead. They got away." She grimly cast her eyes to the bloodied concrete.

"Ah, yes," said Jasper, looking equally grim, "as it turns out, they're pretty dangerous. Let me show you the surveillance footage." He led Laina into the City Hall building, stepping over debris and bodies as they did so. When they walked in the building, the sight didn't improve. The gunmen executed their job perfectly – too perfectly. Several bodies, those of city officials, lay across the floor in pools of blood.

"Arceus," she breathed.

Xander sat on a bench in City Hall, scratching at his tufts of red hair under his disguise. He gingerly pretended to clean the barrel of his gun. His sack, the dark, standard issue within the Empire, lay at his feet. An overwhelming urge to check on his hidden Pokemon, to see if they were still there, almost overcame him, but he resisted.

"You can do that later," he thought, "when you're not around the others." He glanced at the Grunt sitting next to him, who stared into space.

He lost his focus on the gun and scanned the building's interior once more. Scores of Rocket Grunts paced around rapidly, setting up computers and laboratory equipment. Paintings that hung on the wall were lifted off of their hinges and hauled away. Bodies of city officials that lay on the ground were dragged unceremoniously to a corner, blood trails streaking behind them. The white, squeaky clean tiled floor gradually turned a dark red, stained with the innocents' blood. Black flags sporting that Rocket Empire's insignia slowly rose up the highest walls, tacked on by grunts mounted on a herd of Crobats.

The sights seemed all too familiar to Xander, but he felt sick nonetheless. He repressed the bile in his throat from surfacing, swallowing it and grimacing in disgust.

"…see that young'un I shot?" a grunt boomed from the other end of the room. Xander turned and saw the purely evil pride on his face. "He couldn't even react before-"

Xander brushed him aside and slowly slid his pack onto his lap. The grunt next to him dozed off, he noticed. After making sure, once more, that no one looked in his direction, he snapped it open and peeked inside.

All four of his Pokemon rested on the top, the chrome metal of their Poke Balls glinting in Xander's eyes. He sighed lightly in relief before digging deeper. His clothes, the ones he hadn't been able to wear in ages, lay folded sloppily at the bottom. Above them rested his Poké Gear and an assortment of seemingly empty Poke Balls.

"Everything's still here," he thought, cracking a paper thin grin.

"…and that horde of Bidoof were sitting ducks!" boasted the same grunt. Xander frowned in annoyance, pushing his tongue against a silver piercing on his palate. He set the bag back down by his feet, eyeing his adversaries.

"I can't hide within these guys much longer," he thought, the beads of sweat trickling down his nose slowly. "Today's the first day they've seen me in action, sooner or later they're bound to figure out who I-"

"…but even better was the baby Bonsly that-"

"Shut up!" Xander shouted, standing up. Everyone in City Hall fell silent. "How can you brag about the people and Pokemon that you've killed? Is that what you're really about?" He tried in vain to hide the fear and anger in his voice.

The front door burst open, and Xander gasped a little inside. Jasper stood in the doorway, eyeing him down suspiciously. Then, with a stroke of genius, Xander went on:

"There's a bigger task at hand, you know! We have to remember our mission at hand! Don't boast about the men you've killed, plan out the men that you will kill!"

The grunt said nothing, nodding at him with respect before sitting down. Xander didn't look back to Jasper, but could still see the smug grin of satisfaction on his face.

Jasper grinned in pride at the grunt, who stared him down with brevity before turning away. The others went back to work hurriedly, now wanting to attract Jasper's wrath.

"I like that one," Jasper said to Laina.

Jasper strode over to a set of monitors mounted on the wall, punching in some code that Laina didn't understand. "Here's the footage we pulled from the PokéMart at about 9 AM this morning."

Laina stared at the monitor and absorbed the footage. Ash and a Pikachu, presumably his, were in the PokéMart, running down an aisle when a gunman stepped in his way. Her mouth gaped he whipped out a knife and stabbed the gunman in the neck, killing him as they ran off of the shot.

"You wouldn't think that he had it in him," said Laina, shell-shocked. That kid could've killed him today, she realized with a shudder. "Any footage of his friends?"

"Not of the girl," said Jasper, going back to the computer, "but we were able to pull one still shot of his other friend." He punched in more code, which revealed a grainy picture of Ash's muscular friend ("What was his name again?" ), running away from, well, something. Laina studied the picture intensely, taking in all of its detail. A few gunmen, which by now had run their course in the city, appeared in the shot, so it was probable that it was the gunmen he was running from. She groaned at the sight of the egg cradled under his arm.

"Do we have any other information on them?" Laina asked.

"From what a few of the grunts told me, they killed the bigger one. I'm not so sure though, since they haven't found his body or the egg that he had. We printed out the wanted posters, though." He handed her a large sheet of paper, which had the faces of the three trainers blown up with a caption that read:

WANTED

These trainers, known as Ash Ketchum (age 18), Brock Harrison (age 20), and

Dawn Berlitz (age 17), are wanted for crimes of theft and murder against

the Rocket Empire. These three were last seen in Hearthome City on

November 14, 2082 and are known to be on the run. The reward for

information leading to the capture of these fugitives is 50,000 dollars,

DEAD OR ALIVE. They are considered extremely dangerous and, if seen,

should be immediately reported to your nearest Rocket official.

LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE

Laina returned the poster to Jasper when one of the Rocket grunts ran up to her and said, "Laina, it's time for the propaganda announcement. We're gonna…well, you're gonna basically reveal who we are to everyone and what we plan on doing. Almost like a press release." He grinned.

"I'll meet you up at the Radio Station in a few," she said. The grunt walked off as she turned to Jasper. "What do you plan on doing about these kids?" she asked.

"I plan on sending several search parties, one of which I will be leading," Jasper replied.

Laina gasped with fear. He was going to go find an armed and dangerous group of teenagers? Jasper and his men could easily outnumber the three of them, but the chance of Jasper being killed by this kid still remained. The kid already killed a grunt today. Who's to say Jasper wouldn't be next?

"Jasper, listen," she said, struggling to keep the fear from her voice, "I know you think finding these kids will be a piece of cake, but you need to be careful. One of them killed a grunt today, and he'll kill you if you don't watch yourself!"

"I refuse to let myself be intimidated by some kid who's killed one guy. Look at all the people we've killed today!"

"Jasper, you're not listening!" cried Laina, fed up with Jasper's hardheadedness. "We killed defenseless people, who weren't prepared. This kid is armed, and you won't be able to take him down without a fight, one that I'm not sure he'd lose in. Please, promise me you'll be careful!"

Jasper let out an exasperated sigh. "I'll be careful," he said, letting out a smile, "but we'll have caught and killed him and taken his egg in a week, tops. Besides, I haven't even picked my party, yet!"

He took a quick look around the room before his eyes settled on the man from earlier, the one who yelled at the grunt. He sat on a bench, staring outside a window with deep curiosity.

"I want that one," he said. Without another word to Laina, he strode over to the grunt, shoving aside stragglers silently.

"Hey," he said to the man.

The grunt looked up and gulped at the sight of his superior. "Yes?"

"Wanna tell me your name?"

"Xander Fletcher," he mumbled. "What do you want?"

"I'm – well, the Empire, that is, is on the hunt for a group of teenagers. They've taken something that we want, and we're gonna get it."

"What is it that we want, ex-" Xander began, but Jasper held up his hand to silence him. The executive unfolded a slip of paper and handed it to him.

"These are the kids that we're after," Jasper said.

Xander grew pale the moment he laid eyes on the poster. His eyes quickly scanned the text, his mouth gaping open with each word that he read. He stammered incohesively at the sight of "DEAD OR ALIVE."

"Y-Y-You're g-g-g-going after Ash K-Ketchum?" he blubbered.

Jasper frowned. "Don't be so scared, private. He's nothing compared to us. Heck, maybe when he's begging for mercy I'll give you the kill!"

Xander clenched his fist, crushing the poster. "Right. When do we leave?"

"In a few hours. Make sure you're ready." Jasper left without another word, leaving behind the man with a new mission.

Ash fiddled with the dial on the transistor radio, trying to find any kind of a radio signal as Dawn slowly sorted through their newly obtained supplies. Neither of them spoke much since they left the city, just hissing Brock's name every so often in an attempt to locate him. Dawn wept gently over Cyndaquil's death. Ash, on the other hand, didn't know who to be mad at. They trekked around the border of Hearthome City for five hours now, keeping the city just within their sights, before finally stopping to rest for a few minutes.

He looked over at Dawn's arm wound. The bleeding ceased, but the dagger still stuck out jaggedly.

"We can't leave that in there," Ash mumbled, breaking the seemingly eternal silence that separated them, "it'll get infected. Once we find Brock he'll have to-"

"How do you know we'll find him?" Dawn snapped, struggling to hold back tears, "How do you know he isn't dead in the city, like everyone else?"

To be honest, Ash had no idea whether Brock survived the invasion. But he wasn't about to let Dawn know that. "Because he's smart enough to get out on his own," he said. "I'm sure he's fine." He sent her a reassuring, yet false smile, which Dawn didn't return.

"OK, then," said Dawn, looking down to the ground, "say he did make it out alive. What if he's hurt? He might've been shot or hit by shrapnel or-"

"Well if he did, he'd know how to take care of himself. He's practically a human ambulance, you know that!"

"Well how are we ever gonna find him then?!" Dawn exclaimed, unable to contain her emotions any longer, "he's in one tree in miles of forest, do you know how long it's gonna take to search through every tree within a mile radius of the city to find him, assuming he's even alive?" She burst into tears, releasing the stress and exhaustion that the day brought.

Ash couldn't speak; she did have a point, after all. He told Brock to hide in a tree once he made it out of the city; who knew where his tree was, or how far it was from the city, or even if he made it out of the city at all.

He went to Dawn and awkwardly put his arm around her, trying to offer any means of consolation. "It's gonna take a couple of days, you're right. But we will find him. He'll be fine on his own. Until then, we just have to keep looking, alright?" He shot her another smile or reassurance, which she saw with a reluctant grin. "Good. Come on, we should keep moving."

"Can you take it off?" Dawn said suddenly. "The shirt, I mean. I can't stand looking at that bloodstain."

Ash didn't take the shirt off, but grabbed the stolen jacket from the garbage bag and put that on over it. "If it reminds you of the grunt that I killed, then-"

"Don't!" screamed Dawn, covering her ears. "I don't want to talk about it!"

"No, we need to talk," said Ash, gently removing Dawn's hands from her ears. "I didn't do it out of malice. It was to protect us." Dawn looked at him coldly. "If I hadn't, he would've killed me, and you wouldn't have survived either."

"But why kill him?" Dawn asked.

Ash sighed. "Spur of the moment. He just showed up, and-"

"And you killed him, that's what." Dawn interrupted. "I'm not sure I can look at you the same way knowing you did that."

Ash growled furiously at Dawn's shallowness. "Well, if I hadn't, you wouldn't be looking at me at all!" he shouted. Dawn burst into tears again, and his anger faded at Dawn's sadness. "Sorry, but it's the truth. But I'm not some cold-hearted killer now, OK? I'm still me, even if I am a murderer. Nothing's changed about me at all."

Dawn turned to Ash, her face an expressionless stone. "Don't act like today hasn't changed you. You can't just see what happened today, just go through it all and not help but think, Why? So don't pretend you're not thinking about it because, like it or not, you are." She looked at her watch. "Let's keep looking,"

Ash wordlessly got up and began walking beside Dawn, toying with the knob on the radio as he went. He persisted in trying to find a signal, but only found static. A stray tree branch, oblivious to Ash, tripped him, making him fall on his face and sending the radio flying. He cursed, standing up and brushing the dirt from his face.

"You're never gonna find any signal from that thing," scoffed Dawn, "every station in the region is probably down."

But what she didn't hear was that the radio, which survived the landing and lay on a soft patch of dirt about twenty feet away, was no longer broadcasting crude static, but an old man's voice. Ash, filled with new hope, dashed for the radio and began to listen as he plucked it from the ground.

"…..not sure exactly what happened today, but the casualties in Pastoria City are believed to be in the thousands. Although all reports are unconfirmed, sources from the Pokemon League are reporting that all Gym Leaders are missing, presumed dead."

Ash and Dawn sat down by a tree trunk, lowering the volume on the radio. Pikachu sat on Ash's lap, staring at the radio curiously.

"For those of you just joining us," the radio droned, "we're currently trying to piece together the details of exactly what happened across the region today. From what we've gathered, the region has been attacked from an unidentified external terrorist force. Other details are scarce, so please bear with us while we…."

The broadcast cut to static, leaving Ash and Dawn cut off from the outside world yet again. Ash was about to turn the radio off, but before he could reach for the switch the broadcast returned, but this time it was a young woman who was speaking.

"Greetings!" boomed the voice. Ash immediately recognized it as the voice of the woman that kidnapped him last night, and he immediately filled with anger. "This is Laina Woodwright, of the Rocket Empire. I am your new Executive Head of the Northern Sector of the Empire, which you have formerly known as Sinnoh."

Ash looked over at Dawn, who gave nothing but a curious frown to the radio. The radio, meanwhile, continued its broadcast. "We come to Sinnoh with a new age of prosperity, for both humans and Pokémon alike! Equality will be brought to this ravaged land, trainers will be no more!"

"Bullshit!" Ash and Dawn both screamed.

"Pikaaa" growled Pikachu, sensing their anger.

"Trainers have brought nothing to this land but abuse and anger to Pokemon, wild and trained alike." continued Laina. "We promise to care for these Pokémon and bring down the wrath of trainers everywhere!"

"By killing thousands of innocent people?!" Dawn yelled to the radio, as if it were listening to her.

"There are trainers out there who are spoken of as legends, but are nothing but monsters." Laina said, "and we wish to eliminate those very monsters. Take, for example, Ash Ketchum, who's wanted by the Rocket Empire for theft and murder."

"Exactly what did I take from them?" Ash wondered to himself. "Sure, they have me for murder, but theft?"

"If you spot Ash or either of his accomplices, contact your nearest Rocket official." Laina paused. "And, of course, LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE!" With that the broadcast turned to static once more, but this time the broadcast never returned.

The obvious reality finally sank in. They were wanted fugitives; the entire region was now on a manhunt for them. They wouldn't be able to show their face again. They'd have to vanish off of the face of the Earth. Dawn and Pikachu must have realized the same thing, because they both had similar looks of defeat on their face.

Ash sighed. "Alright, let's go," he said, standing up as Pikachu jumped off of his lap.

"Can't we just stay here for the night?" Dawn asked, "I mean, it's almost sundown, and we're no safer here than anywhere else."

He looked at his watch. 5:12 PM. "Might as well," said Ash, setting his bags down on the ground. "Why don't you go find some kindling for a fire? I'll break some branches for firewood."

Dawn wordlessly walked off to find some kindling while Ash took a wood axe from one of his bags ("I really should sort this stuff out, he thought) and began breaking down branches for firewood. Pikachu, in his boredom, chased his tail in a dog-like fashion. Ash burst into giggles, laughing for the first time in days.

He then thought about the last time he had laughed, or tried to, at least. When did he laugh last? The day before he found the egg? Yes, it must have been, thought Ash. He didn't remember why he had laughed. Maybe Brock had told a joke, or maybe Pikachu had done something silly. He couldn't remember, but what did it matter? Laughter could hardly exist now, so what was the point of thinking about it?

Dawn came back with a handful of kindling that she laid down in a neat pile on the ground. "Is this enough?" she asked, brimming with pride. She noticed Ash's scarcity of gathered firewood. "If that's all you found, then this'll be plenty!" she said sarcastically

"Sorry," said Ash sheepishly, "I was distracted. Do me a favor and take the fire pit ring out of the bag." She did so while Ash went back to chopping branches for firewood. The silence that had temporarily vanished returned with a vengeance as they silently went about their work. The only sound that could be heard was the sound of the wood axe crunching against branches.

"I want to cremate him." Dawn blurted.

Ash looked at her, confused, before realizing that she was talking about Cyndaquil. Ash, as sad as he was about his death, had forgotten about him in the past few hours. They had returned his body to his PokéBall once they left, and promised to do something about him later, in their minds at least.

"Cremation?" asked Ash, "why cremation? Can't we just bury him?"

"It just feels…." trailed Dawn, trying to find the right word. "Fitting." She said finally. "He was a fire-type, after all.

"I guess you're right. In that case, I'll have Inferna-"he said, stopping when he remembered that his Pokémon were gone. He gave a sheepish sigh.

"What's wrong?" Dawn asked.

"My Pokémon," Ash replied, "they're gone. All of them." Dawn gave him an apologetic look, which he waved off. "I have matches," he said as he grabbed some out of his bag. He struck one and threw it into the pile of kindling, which Ash had laid firewood on top of. The fire grew slowly, but eventually became large enough to provide a light source, since it had grown much darker.

"OK, so exactly how are we gonna do this?" asked Ash.

"The only way we can," replied Dawn. She took out Cyndaquil's PokéBall and tossed it into the center of the fire. The PokéBall was flame retardant, but Ash and Dawn knew that within minutes his body would be nothing but a pile of ash.

Dawn pretended not to care, but Ash knew that she mourned inside. They both stared into the fire, watching the flames burn around the PokéBall. Ash thought about how much Dawn loved her Cyndaquil, who always bounced with energy, and let out a single tear, the first of many to flow in the coming weeks. "I'm sorry, Cyndaquil," thought Ash, "I'm sorry. This is all my fault."

After about ten minutes, the night became chillier and the winds stronger, and a particularly strong gust blew the fire out completely. The smoking PokéBall hissed in the middle of a pile of dead wood, providing the only color in a pit of blackness.

"One thing left to do," said Ash. He used two sticks to pick up the PokéBall from the pit and let it cool in his bottle of water. After a few minutes, he removed the PokéBall, dumped out the water and opened up the PokéBall. Sure enough, all that remained inside was a heaping pile of ash, which made Dawn visibly sick. As she retched behind a tree, Ash took a deep breath and flung the PokéBall into the night, the ash flying away in the wind. The emptied PokéBall landed with a clink in the distance. Ash thought it better not to retrieve it. He turned his back to walk away when an ACHOO from the trees made him freeze in his tracks.